


Braver Than the New World

by TheBlobMaster



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Brave New World, Angst, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11276025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlobMaster/pseuds/TheBlobMaster
Summary: In a world where love is looked down upon and frowned at, two friends might be more than just friends.





	Braver Than the New World

Braver Than the New World | [](http://theblobmaster.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://theblobmaster.livejournal.com/)**theblobmaster** | NC-17 | Kai/ChanYeol minor! Kai/OC  & ChanYeol/Krystal | Sex, somewhat drug use, skims over underage sex | 5,062  
  
written for [](http://eexiee.livejournal.com/profile)[**eexiee**](http://eexiee.livejournal.com/) at [](http://sncj-santa.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://sncj-santa.livejournal.com/)**sncj_santa**  
  


  
She keens high in the back of her throat as he pushes in deeper. She’s baring it for him to do as he pleases. It’s sickening, the way they regard themselves as meat and her high toned voice stands in such a contrast to the voice he really wants to hear. She slick and well used, there’s not much resistance left as he continues to pound into her. He really wants it just to be over as quick as possible. There’s someone waiting for him in the room next door, probably with his ear flat against the wall trying to see if he can hear the sounds. It hurts to think about and only because his body is on autopilot does he make her climax with well-aimed thrusts and deft finger work.  
  
The smile on her red painted lips when she slithers down his body makes bile pile up in the back of his throat but at least like this he can imagine that it’s someone else’s mouth that’s sucking him to the peek.  
  
He doesn’t look at her as she dresses herself in her mulberry-colored outfit. Every piece just a different shade of the color, he’s lying on his back facing away from her. She thanks him with a sugar coated voice before kissing his cheek and letting herself out.  
  
Silence is resting over the grey interior of his apartment for a long time. ChanYeol is just on the other side of the wall, he didn’t take anyone with him home today, and JongIn knows this. He had heard a beta-minus chemical worker girl complain about how it’s the fourth time ChanYeol has turned her down. To turn her attention somewhere else he had invited her out to dinner before going with him home, all with a charming smile on his lips despite his distaste. The gossip has been circling around for a long time about the suspicious behavior of the alpha-plus male and JongIn had tried more than once to get his lov- friend. To get his friend to take anybody home, at least just twice a week, but ChanYeol refused. He would rather have to endure the gossip and sidelong glances everyone always threw him. He said it felt wrong, he said he never wanted to touch anyone else and if he did it would make his heart clench painfully.  
  
Dragging himself out of the bed and into the shower, he scrubs himself clean and tries to get the feeling of her against him away. He hates the way that working in the embryos labs makes their teeth turn coral, skin turn sickly pale yellow and eyes turn purple. He hates that he’s too scared to do what ChanYeol does. That he doesn’t dare say no, that he still takes out a different girl five times a week and takes them home to fuck even when his mind constantly yells at him that it’s wrong.  
  
He doesn’t bother dressing himself, just knocks on the hidden door they had gotten installed. There had been no need for explanations to the khaki clad delta-minus worker. It’s one of the perks of being an alpha, especially such a fine bred one as JongIn is. After a little while it opens and a disheveled ChanYeol appears on the other side. The rims of his eyes are red and there are tear tracks on his cheeks. “I’m sorry.” JongIn whispers before pressing himself into ChanYeol’s body. They kiss desperately as they always do at first, JongIn’s hands clutching the back of ChanYeol’s shirt and ChanYeol’s hands roaming over the lean planes of his back, tugging him in closer. Almost as if they are asking him never to leave again and he wishes he could give him that.  
  
They stumble, entangled to ChanYeol’s bed and ChanYeol lands on his back. Taking a moment to just look at him, JongIn marvels over the soft features of the other. He’s not the usual type of alpha, he doesn’t have a strong jawline or intense looking eyes, not like JongIn has, but he’s beautiful. Leaning down he captures ChanYeol’s lips in a lingering kiss. His fingers start to slowly undoing the buttons of ChanYeol’s light grey shirt as he kisses his way down the newly exposed pale skin of ChanYeol’s chest. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers into ChanYeol’s naval, before pulling down the dark grey pants that he wears with his suit to work. ChanYeol never wears any underwear when he waits for him and JongIn buries his nose in the dark curls of hair that comes in sight. The musky smell calms JongIn down, sex isn’t something unfamiliar to him but no one has ever had the same effect on him before. Not the same flow of euphoria that always strums through him every time he as much lays his eyes on ChanYeol or this bubbly feeling of happiness in his chest. All these _feelings,_ feelings that JongIn knows what means but wishes he didn’t because it’s wrong and he shouldn’t have them. He shouldn’t want to smile just because he’s thinking of ChanYeol; he definitely shouldn’t want to only be with ChanYeol.  
  
_Everyone belongs to everyone else, everyone is happy, one mass one mind._  
  
He noses at ChanYeol’s flaccid cock, kissing it softly and the thighs it lays between. ChanYeol’s looking at him, eyes longing and not just with lust. It always hurts to see, JongIn doesn’t know what he can do about it. It’s not acceptable to want this. JongIn does what he knows instead of thinking about all the confusing things. His lips find the head of ChanYeol’s cock and begin to suckle on it, his tongue teasing the slit slightly and he can feel the slow hardening that begins under his ministrations. He continues to just leisurely sucking on the rapidly growing erection, lets his tongue lap at the velvety skin, his lips nibble at the tip. Like this he doesn’t have to think, just focus on making ChanYeol feel good, and listen to the sharp intakes of breath that comes from above him as he swallows the cock down further. Focus on the sensation of a hand in his hair gripping tight but not doing anything to control him.  
  
Carefully he circles a finger around the slick entrance of ChanYeol’s puckered muscle. The other always preps himself beforehand, much to JongIn’s annoyance. It’s not the same working someone open if they already are. The slide in makes his breath hitch, the feeling of ChanYeol contracting around the wriggling digit. His mouth has slipped up to focus on right beneath the cock head, and he slips in two other fingers easily beside the one already there. ChanYeol’s panting, small whines escaping out into the stale air. His hands are grabbing the sheets tightly, and JongIn finds himself wishing everything wasn’t grey.  
  
“JongIn, please.” ChanYeol sounds so breathless, deep voice scratchy and rough, it startles a moan out of JongIn. Quickly he pulls away and lifts ChanYeol’s legs up over his shoulders and everything stills for a moment when he pushes past the rim, ChanYeol’s eyes scrunched up and his mouth open in a silent moan. It’s the most beautiful thing JongIn has ever seen. He doesn’t pound into ChanYeol like he had done with the woman from before, he takes his time, relishing in the feel of ChanYeol around him. His hips move slowly and carefully, taking ChanYeol with outmost care. His right hand loosens ChanYeol’s left from the sheet and laces their fingers together bringing it up so he can kiss the back of it.  
  
He pushes forward, folding ChanYeol in half, elbows on each side of his head. There’s tears gathered in ChanYel’s eyes and JongIn leans down to kiss them away, feels ChanYeol’s lips on his chin and kisses his way down to breathe against them. There’s a stiffening in ChanYeol’s body and JongIn knows he’s close but he doesn’t touch him, he never has to. Aiming his thrusts to rub up against that spot he knows makes ChanYeol stop breathing for a short second, he feels ChanYeol’s walls clamp up on him and the man comes with a shudder.  
  
JongIn’s not far behind. His eyes locking with ChanYeol and he breathes out an, “I’m so sorry.” before sealing their lips and he comes too.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
They grew up together in the Seoul’s hatchery and nursery. Learned all the ways of an alpha-plus together and had their first erotic play together. As each other’s favorite playmates they somehow stuck together all the way through the teachings and their psychology education. They were both fine examples of alphas, the best of the best. They worked side by side each in their own office, dressed in impeccable grey suits and with charming smiles. For many years they brought home girls, sometimes even shared them. They followed the society’s expectations of them. JongIn’s fucked so many different nameless women and girls in his life, none of their faces has lingered nor has their names.  
  
ChanYeol has. JongIn still remembers the very first time they engaged in erotic play. Wandering hands and a curiosity that never calmed down when it came to ChanYeol. They had been so young, just barely past the stage of being toddlers. They had gotten so much praise from the adults working in the nursery when they had told them.  
  
Somehow along the way women stopped satisfying him the way it did when he and ChanYeol fooled around. He always had a tendency to feel more at ease in ChanYeol’s company, but that’s normal between friends, but then he started to feel as if his whole body became lighter as soon as he touched ChanYeol. When ChanYeol smiled at him everything felt right in the world.  
  
It felt dangerous, too close to the things they’ve heard ridiculing stories about from the past before the great Ford came and changed the world for the better.  
  
It scared JongIn, still does.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
They never go to work together anymore. ChanYeol’s helicopter is always gone when he goes out to the platforms bright and early in the morning. Just like the spot beside JongIn when he wakes up is always empty and cold. JongIn doesn’t know where ChanYeol goes because he always comes in later than JongIn. A brief glance into JongIn’s office and eyes sadder than sad stares at him for a second. The room feels smaller and JongIn loses his focus on the important papers in front of him. They both work for the Seoul Hatchery as psychologists, they both know all about how children are created as most alphas and betas do, but they know the details. They know about what was before the great Ford reformed bigger parts of the world, know what’s in the savage areas around the world.  
  
SooJung, JongIn’s lovely secretary, looks dismissing up at him when he walks in for the day. She’s not one to smile too much like so many of the girls are; high on the happiness the _soma_ pills give. She’s dressed in the usual mulberry-colored skirt and frilly shirt as she always is and even her nails are painted in the color. They’ve been out quite a few times and JongIn mostly enjoys her company. She’s not like the beta-minus girls from the labs that he sometimes goes out with. There’s nothing unnatural about her, the only thing is her pickiness when it comes to men. Not everyone that asks her out will get her, JongIn’s one of the lucky few in the world to have had the pleasure of going out with her more than once.  
Her lips against his body also feel nice, not as nice as it used to before this thing with ChanYeol started up. “SooJung?” His voice makes her look up from the papers on her small desk. “Do you have a date for the night?” He asks, because he could use going out with someone he likes for once. “Yes. ChanYeol asked me out not even ten minutes ago. I’m surprised. I didn’t think he had it in him anymore.” Her eyebrow is quirked, probably from the slight intake of air JongIn has to take to not scream. “Oh, guess you were wrong.” He smiles lifelessly at her before locking himself up in his office for the rest of the day.  
  
He hears them go, SooJung’s voice brighter than usual cuts through the wood of his door. “Where are we going? Should we go and listen to the synths at the Pearl?” JongIn doesn’t hear ChanYeol’s answer, doesn’t have to. He knows he’ll say yes because he loves the synths and the Pearl is always full of happy people on a _soma_ pill or two.  
It’s way after the normal time he would close up the office as he locks the door to the building. His eyes had been focused on the papers at hand but his mind constantly thought of pictures of ChanYeol laughing with SooJung at the Pearl or his big hands covering her pale breasts, her waist as he fucks her slowly, he never liked it too fast paced.  
Grabbing the quickly digestive dinner on his way home he lands on the roof. ChanYeol’s helicopter still isn’t there. _They’ll probably be back soon_ , JongIn thinks bitterly and walks down into his apartment next to ChanYeol’s.  
He’s right; he can hear their high laughter not long after, possibly the aftereffects of too many _soma_ pills. It turns quiet fast enough, JongIn’s ears straining to pick up any kind of sound from behind the thin wall. Then it begins the whines that SooJung makes when she feels good. Moans of ChanYeol’s name, moans that isn’t JongIn’s. His chest feels like it’s being squeezed, he can’t breathe and tears are stinging in his eyes. His warm grey furniture seems cold suddenly and JongIn can’t phantom how ChanYeol has been able to do this for so long. Nothing has hurt as much as he feels his everything hurting now.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
They had fooled around, both dismissing the offers from two very lovely ladies. ChanYeol had taken him in deep, deeper than ever before, eyes constantly locked on JongIn’s face never deterring even when JongIn was giving him pleasure of means he never had done before. It had felt weird, the intense glare of ChanYeol’s soft eyes unwavering and JongIn almost shied away had it not been for their enchanting shade of deep blackish brown. ChanYeol’s eyes with pupils blown so big that the iris was almost invisible, he’d locked JongIn into place with those eyes that night.  
  
JongIn wishes he hadn’t. Wishes he wasn’t so happy that he did.  
  
For the first time ChanYeol pulled JongIn down and kissed him harder than JongIn had ever been kissed. Emotions pouring into it and JongIn still seated hard inside of ChanYeol laps it up. He hadn’t understood why at that moment and how much his life and his view of it would change not even an hour later.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
_Everyone belongs to everyone else, everyone is happy, one mass one mind._  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
For the first time in the years they’ve done this JongIn is the one who hears a knock. He’s a mess, he knows. Face puffed from crying, lips bitten blood red and his hair in disarray from pulling it to relieve some of the pain but he can’t ignore it. Never could ignore it when ChanYeol called for him. He knocks back and ChanYeol opens the door, his own knuckle hasn’t even lifted from the surface.  
  
There’s red lipstick smeared across his throat and there’s dried fluid on his stomach. Vomit is teasing the back of JongIn’s throat. ChanYeol’s covered in her. “JongIn.” He croaks, voice so broken and insecure, it feels like the time when JongIn went and visited his friend TaeMin at the nurseries and heard the painful screams of the barely a year old infants as they were disciplined with electroshocks. TaeMin hadn’t fluttered an eyelash at that, simply smiling in content and JongIn had to excuse himself to go to the toilet, emptying the content of his stomach into the ceramic bowl. ChanYeol’s voice feels like those screams, hysteric, pained and broken. “JongIn, I’m so sorry.”  He doesn’t have to say it. His eyes tell on him, guilt clear in those big and wide eyes. “For Ford’s sake let’s get you into a bath.” JongIn whispers, barely managing to find his voice.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“I love you, JongIn.” ChanYeol had whispered when JongIn was just about to fall into a slumber. The words didn’t really register at the beginning but then they did and JongIn bolted up straight. “What nonsense are you spewing?” His voice was loud, agitated, _scared_. “I love you.” ChanYeol’s deep timbre voice had said again, not a hint of hesitation in it. “You can’t.”  
  
_Everyone belongs to everyone else, everyone is happy, one mass one mind._  
  
“But I do and I know you love me too.” Long arms had circled JongIn’s bare waist pulling his trembling body into a warm one. “You know it too.” In the back of his mind JongIn had known that something was wrong with him. He only craved ChanYeol and the sprout of happiness he got every time ChanYeol touched him was not normal. “No, we can’t. Nononononono.” JongIn had rocked back and forth, legs pulled close and eyes squeezed shut. “Everyone works for everyone, everyone is happy, even the epsilons are useful.” He had whispered, turning into a chant of _everyone belongs to everyone else._  
  
_Everyone belongs to everyone else, everyone is happy, one mass one mind._  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
ChanYeol slumps against him face lax and almost closed off but JongIn keeps him up straight and turns on the water to slush down over them. It’s cold at first and JongIn can feel his skin pulling taut when ChanYeol shivers against him. The warm water starts to flow slowly and soon the entire glass bath stall is fogged up. JongIn grabs his soap and lavishes it in his hand. There’s a synthetic lavender filling the air of the grey tinted tiled bathroom of JongIn’s apartment and he chokes a bit on the strong smell. The skin of ChanYeol’s throat is warm against the palms of JongIn’s hands when they touch the lipstick marks. The soap foams and the white cover the red.  
  
When he rinses it away there are no marks left. JongIn wants to leave marks, wants to mark ChanYeol as his. It’s wrong. _Everyone belongs to everyone else_ runs through his mind as his teeth latches on to the wide spans of the throat in front of him. They worry the sensitive skin, his ears picking up the gasp of surprise ChanYeol lets out and he presses his body close. Only the small dents on their bodies create tiny spaces of air between them. It’s rare they are so close to each other with so much skin is touching because JongIn is afraid of marks, afraid of their significance and especially the emotions behind them.  
  
Everything is in a blur from JongIn sucking, nibbling, _biting_ red marks onto every available surface of ChanYeol’s body to the chants of JongIn’s name coming from ChanYeol. He’s on his knees mouthing at ChanYeol’s sharp hipbone, his teeth scraping over the protruding bone when he realizes what he’s doing. Cognitively he recognizes what he’s doing and he scrabbles back from ChanYeol. “ _Soma,_ I need _soma._ ” His voice is scratchy and his eyes can’t seem to focus on anything. He’d let his _instincts_ take over. His _natural instincts_ , he shouldn’t have those anymore, none of those should be able to exist through the layer of _well-trained_ instincts. None of his possessive traits should be left. Nothing at all and yet he’d acted completely without any cognitive thoughts at all. “JongIn, don’t. Please.”  
  
The impact of ChanYeol’s knees hitting the floor echoes in the tiled room, he looks desperate for JongIn to look at him but JongIn can’t keep his eyes on him for more than a few nanoseconds at a time. “But it’s wrong.” He finally mutters, voice betraying how scared he really is. JongIn remembers the infants screams, he should have known he was different when he couldn’t see the _rightness_ in it. The small epsilon infants that will never be anything but close to brain-dead muscle workers and convenience workers, when they grow up they will never have any functioning brain-cells that the most necessary to function. JongIn almost wishes he was an epsilon then he would never have had the chance to get these wrong feelings.  
  
It rings in JongIn’s head when a palm connects with his cheek and doe eyed with surprised he looks up at ChanYeol. “Get yourself together.” It’s hysterical, ChanYeol’s voice, decibels all put together wrong, deep going high on a crack. His eyes are frantically searching JongIn’s face for something, JongIn’s not sure what.  
  
“JongIn, it doesn’t have to be like this. We don’t have to hide it. We can go somewhere else, a place where it’s acceptable to love. You- we can. We’re both high enough in position to go to the Savage Land on vacation and then we can pretend to get lost. Staying out of sight for a long while and then maybe join a group of Savages later on. That’s possible.”  
  
ChanYeol’s hands on his shoulders are holding on so tight that the knuckles have turned yellowy white. “No more grey only, no more everyone only us. You and me. Imagine that JongIn.” Deep brown pools begging him. “But what about our lives?”  
  
“They’ll decant others to take over our jobs, our friends will forget us quickly enough. A _soma_ pill or four and we’ll be out of their mind. Here we’re nothing special always replaceable, but there we can be special.” JongIn can’t really phantom how that would be. It’s so far from everything he knows and is comfortable with. “You don’t have to promise anything, but at least come with me and then you can see if it’s something you want to do. If not we just take a week’s vacation for us to use as we want.” JongIn can do that.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
ChanYeol’s warm against him from behind, JongIn hopes he’s there when he wakes up the next morning.  
  
He is.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“Let me understand this correctly. You two want to go into the Savage Land of Busan to study the Savages?” Director SooMan, an alpha-minus, asks. His face marred by deep wrinkles between his eyebrows as if even the mere thought of wanting to study the Savages pains him. “Yes sir, maybe we can find more faults that we haven’t discovered yet so we can improve the development of embryos of the different castes.” ChanYeol’s face is devoid of any kind of emotion, none of the panic or desperation from a few nights ago present. JongIn can’t open his mouth, he’s feeling a bit nauseating and he’s sure that if he talks he’ll vomit over the director. “Very well then. You have a month from tomorrow. There should be a hut still intact in the reserve.”  
  
A decade ago there had been a possibility to visit the reserve of the Savages to see the vile creatures that hadn’t been conformed by the great Ford’s ideas but then more and more guests started disappearing. No search teams had been able to find them so the resort closed down. No one dared visiting it anymore.  
  
The smile ChanYeol flashes at him when they’re out of sight and the crushing kiss against his lips makes his heart skip a beat. This is exciting. He has at least a month alone with ChanYeol. The decision ChanYeol will no doubt ask about pushed to the back of his mind.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The wind produced by the helicopter’s propels is blowing JongIn’s hair into a mess and when he looks at ChanYeol he sees the same happening to him. He’s waving goodbye to pilot with a reassuring smile. Only with the helicopter out of sight does he turn to JongIn again, scooping him up into his arms and kissing the breath out of him. “We made it.” He whispers against JongIn’s lips. The soft skin against his own feels like a new breath of life and JongIn’s lips spreads into a wide grin on their own.  
  
“Let’s go.”  
  
The hut is nothing special. It’s plain wood, there’s a large king bed in the corner of it right next to a wall of glass, the view over the sea wide and vast. “Isn’t it amazing?” ChanYeol comes up behind, circling his arms around his waist and leaning his head on JongIn’s shoulder. There’s no need for an answer because it’s obvious.  
  
ChanYeol’s mouth is waiting for him when he turns his head and JongIn can’t ever remember a kiss feeling so calming. ChanYeol’s soft lips compliant under his, there’s no hurry, no desperation laced into it. When he licks his way into ChanYeol’s mouth and licks along the rim of his teeth he feels the relief washing in over him in waves. He turns around, hand coming to rest at ChanYeol’s hips silently urging him backwards and he lets ChanYeol pull him down over him when they get to the bed. They bounce lightly and the laugh JongIn lets out feels more real than any of the others he ever has.  
  
“Hey.” He whispers, nose caressing ChanYeol’s cheek. “Hey.” ChanYeol’s eyes are so happy when he says it and JongIn smiles when he leans down and catches ChanYeol’s upper lip between both of his and sucks.  
  
ChanYeol’s light grey shirt is unbuttoned leisurely and JongIn marvels at the faint pink marks he’s left behind, his lips trace them, tongue sneaking out to lap at an erect nipple, his whole body strumming with pleasure from the low moan ChanYeol emits at the motion. He kisses his way down the long span of ChanYeol’s torso, tongue laving at the hipbones before his hands deftly makes work of ChanYeol’s darker grey pants and pulls them down. He mouths at the light trail of dark hair on ChanYeol’s lower stomach, his teeth scraping over the skin. He continues down, foregoing to touch ChanYeol’s half hard dick. Instead he lets his tongue pull in one of his testis’ into his mouth. His cheeks hollowing with suction as his tongue massages the soft scrotum.  
  
There’s no oil or lubrication nearby so JongIn goes even lower and tentatively licks at the pink puckered muscle. ChanYeol’s whole body shudders at the sensation, his hand immediately going down to slide into JongIn’s hair and grip hard. “Can I?” JongIn asks into the hollow of ChanYeol’s pelvis, ChanYeol just tugs on his hair trying to get him back to where he was before. Letting salvia gather in his mouth JongIn teases his thumb over the rim, pressing in lightly only removing it when he has enough salvia.  
  
He drops it down onto the muscle finally working his thumb in to the knuckle. He pumps it in out faintly not wanting to hurt ChanYeol, it’s the first time ChanYeol has let him prep him but ChanYeol urges him on with a, “More JongIn, I can take more” so he slips out his thumb and instead replaces it with his ring and middle finger. He keeps his movements slow and careful shallowly thrusting. His tongue licks around the taut rim when his fingers start to scissor and it doesn’t take long before ChanYeol asks for another finger.  
  
When he’s worked in all three, he runs the along the slick walls until they find that small bundle and ChanYeol’s moan is choked off and breathless.  
  
“JongIn, _please_. I can take it now.” His hand reaches down to cup JongIn jaw, holding on so he can pull him up. JongIn keeps pressing down in soft circles on the muscle as he moves up to ChanYeol’s face. ChanYeol’s free hand pulls his fingers out of him just as his hand on JongIn’s jaw pulls him down into a searing kiss.  
  
When JongIn is rid of his clothes he spits down on his painfully hard cock. It’s red bordering on turning purple. His hands smear it down before gripping at the base positioning himself. He’s not prepared for ChanYeol’s legs to wrap around his hips and pushing him in. All air leaves him for a second, mind blank from any thoughts about anything but how _good_ it feels but then ChanYeol’s rocking himself down onto JongIn’s cock and he focuses.  
  
The first snap of his hips takes effort, but then a rhythm is build. Long, strong thrusts, JongIn has never felt more present and aware of ChanYeol than he is now. They’re face to face, ChanYeol’s breaths puffing out against JongIn’s mouth. ChanYeol’s eyes are closed but JongIn can’t look away from him. The flush of his cheeks painting him pink, the redness of his lips and the white of his teeth, there’s so many colors that aren’t grey. It slowly builds up, JongIn can feel the tightening in his abdomen only seconds before white overtakes behind his eyelids and he’s coming, hard and long.  
  
Without taking a breath or pulling out he reaches down and pumps ChanYeol to completion, swallowing down the groan of his name.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
SooJung hears the whispers as soon as she steps into building after her small vacation. “Did you hear both Park ChanYeol and Kim JongIn have disappeared? There’s no trace of them in the hut and no bodies have been found.” She frowns; they should’ve been back two days ago with new information about the Savages. “Do you think they’ve been killed by the Savages or maybe an animal?” SunYoung, ChanYeol’s secretary, asks her, voice low and confidential. ”I don’t know, but those two have always been suspicious. I swear the last time I was together with ChanYeol he kept moaning JongIn’s name.” SunYoung shrugs and turns to the papers at hand with a small shake of her head.  
  
SooJung looks at the door to JongIn’s office and a slight pang of something she’s not sure what is goes through her. Shaking it off, she reaches for the little mulberry colored coffer with red roses that stands on her desk and takes out a _soma_ pill. Laying the pill onto her tongue she grabs the glass of rose water and gulps it down.  
  
Back to work.


End file.
